Silver Future
by WarlordFil
Summary: Beast Wars. A Maximal protoform struggles with memories that hint at a more sinister past life. Part of the Tempest Cycle.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Silver Future" is an older story written with considerable influence from a role-play involving myself, Amy , Jennifer DeSalme, and Dylan P. Blacquiere. The resulting tale, and in fact the entire Tempest Cycle, has a higher emphasis on fan characters than my other stories.

This story was written to explore what happened to Tempest and Harrier during the Beast Wars.

Recommended prior reading: "Star Cruiser."

Recommended supplimentary reading: "The Gates of Hell," "Forge for a Blade," Amy K. Cyrway's fanfics.

Credits:  
Pantera/Artemis and Blancwulf belong to Amy K. Cyrway, as does the Predacon Laserbeak and Predacon Buzzsaw concepts.  
Inuarai belongs to Jennifer DeSalme  
Samiel/Tempest, Harrier, and Phoenix Corps are mine  
All other Characters are property of Hasbro, as is Transformers, Beast Wars, Maximals, Predacons, Decepticons, and Autobots.

This fic is rated PG-13 thanks to a bit of violence and mature themes...thanks a lot Sammi...

TIME SETTING: Late Season Three of Beast Wars, around the time of "Go With The Flow."

"What kind of creature do we have here?  
It feels like love, but it smells like fear...  
Look in the mirror, baby, what do you dream?  
Look at it harder now and you start to scream  
We're finding out what drives your machine!  
You...stand...on the edge...of a silver future..."

--Monster Magnet, "Silver Future," from the "Heavy Metal 2000" soundtrack

**SILVER FUTURE**

"Scanning for compatible life forms."

The stasis pod's computer spoke aloud, thought there was no sentient creature present to hear it. The DNA scanner came online, sending golden beams across the landscape, searching for a dominant life form. The creature it selected was canine, though it did not understand the difference between this beast and any other. All it knew was what it was programmed to know: it would find a dominant life form and replicate the DNA in the body of the Maximal that slept inside.

"Replication process...system malfunction. System malfunction."

Sparks flew from the pod's damaged side, broken when the pod had made contact with the planet's surface. The computer, attempting to find a way around the problem, sent out probes through its network of circuits, searching for information that would tell it how to reformat the Transformer within. The protoform was partially online, not aware, but functioning enough for one of the probes to access its memory banks. There...the pattern of an animal...

...and that pattern became superimposed on the half-created canine protoform, melding and shaping the Maximal within...

"Replication process complete."

Inside the pod, the animal warrior stirred, blinking its eyes, as it rested in the grip of a dream.

A female, gold in colour, wearing a headpiece of some sort decorated with thin blue spires, stood before him. She had wings, and she was gesturing to him. He could not take his eyes off her, and he knew that he would follow her anywhere.

"What are your orders, my lady?" he asked.

She did not speak. Her form was hazy; he could not get a good look at her. He squinted, trying to see better, and suddenly realized that he didn't even know who she was or the fine details of her face. Everything was getting darker and darker, and he struggled to force his optic lids open...

...and his lids flew up and he saw the inside of the stasis pod.

He blinked a moment, trying to remember who he was and where. A jumble of images and memories came to his mind.

A name: Harrier.

An allegiance: he had...two? Duke of the Decepticon Empire? Maximal? Both?

Visions. Battles with Autobots. Battles with Predacons. Battles with Quintessons. Girls, bars, laughs and good times. Life of the party, yes, that was him...

...and then a crushing loneliness stabbed through his spark.

The lady...HIS lady. The lady in his dream. Who was she? Where was she? She was his leader...his love...his saviour...

No answers came.

~Find her...I must find her.~

He sniffed, not even realizing that he had no idea what her scent would smell like. A barrage of new aromas came to his nose. Spicy and pungent, tantalizing, they awakened an almost insatiable curiosity. He leapt upwards, forcing the lid of the pod open, and braced his forepaws on the lip of the pod as he thrust his head out, sniffing the wind.

He still had the form given to him by the scanner--he was definitely canine--but while the native wild dogs were grey and shaggy creatures, his coat was short, tidy and snow-white, save for the big brown blotches down his back and over his right eye. Over his rib cage on each side sat a circular VTOL turbine, folded down in a closed position. And on his haunch was an odd purplish spot which, if glimpsed at the right angle, might be said to resemble the sigil of the ancient Decepticons.

He threw back his head and let out a howl, signifying the commencement of the hunt.

***

Little was he to know that he was the object of a hunt himself. "Where is that slaggin' stasis pod?" muttered the white wolf to her companion as they raced side by side across the landscape.

Her friend, a smaller coyote, puffed as she struggled to keep up. "The computer said it landed somewhere around here...Blancwulf, slow down!"

"Can't! We gotta get to it before the Preds do! Or before it ends up like that other pod we found this morning."

"There aren't any Preds in this sector," Inuarai argued, but Blancwulf paid no attention.

Then the howl came echoing across the landscape. Blancwulf skidded to a stop, surprised, and almost involuntarily let out a howl of her own.

"What do you figure that is?" Inuarai asked. "It doesn't sound like any beast I know."

And then they saw the figure loping towards them. Not only was he different from any other canine they'd encountered on this world, but his metallic trim gave him away as another Transformer.

"Looks like the pod did just fine on its own," Inuarai said.

"Yeah, but is he Maxie or Pred?" Blancwulf retorted. "For all we know, the Preds might have gotten to it first, and we just haven't seen them. Hey!" she called out to the newcomer. "Over here!"

The stranger perked his ears and dashed up to them, cocking his head in a comical manner as he studied them. Blancwulf took a sniff and sneezed. He looked, and smelled, domesticated...like a foxhound, she thought. "Maxie or Pred?" she asked.

He blinked at her.

"Maxie, or Pred?" she repeated, a little more insistently.

His eyelids fluttered again, as if he were still trying to find his voice, and then he spoke. "I say, old girl, you don't need to be so huffy about it."

Inuarai giggled. The foxhound had an aristocratic, almost English accent. Both his voice and his looks were ridiculously out of place on this savage world. "Inuarai, MAXIMIZE!" she said, still laughing as she transformed.

"Blancwulf, MAXIMIZE!"

The foxhound looked about, thought a moment, and spoke. "Harrier, MAXIMIZE!"

He transformed--the canine head parting to reveal his hands, a robotic head rising from his chest, the canine hind legs swivelling and lengthening, the upper part of the animal chest moving down to form spotted shoulder guards. His robot chest was covered by a layer of what looked like chain mail, but not before Inuarai saw an unusual symbol...something that looked like the Decepticon logo. Maximal sigils adorned the two strips of white metal on his upper arms.

He moved his right arm down in a sweeping bow and announced, "Duke Harrier of the Decepticon Empire at your service."

Blancwulf blinked. "Decepticons... Weren't they the ancient ancestors of the Predacons?" At the mention of Predacons, the hackles rose on the back of her neck.

Harrier shrugged. "A different branch of the family..." His voice was vague, as if he were uncertain himself. "I say, where is this place?"

"Welcome to the Beast Wars," the white wolf said with a sigh. "I'm Blancwulf, and this is Inuarai. Do you remember anything, or did your memory circuits get slagged in the stasis pod crash?"

"I remember the Axalon," he replied slowly. "I was part of Optimus Primal's crew. We were setting out on an exploration mission. I was tracker and huntsman...and I had my own reason for joining up." His expression grew distant. "I'm looking for my lady."

He had other memories, fainter ones...of wearing the Decepticon logo, of fighting for a unit that called itself Phoenix Corps. Looking at his two Maximal companions, he decided that mentioning those recollections would probably be unwise. As a rule, Maximals did not think highly of Decepticons.

Had he known his lady in person, during the Decepticon days? Part of him suspected that he had...

"Your lady?" Inuarai asked. "Do you think her pod landed somewhere around here?"

"There's no record of another pod on the scanners," Blancwulf said.

"No," Harrier sighed. "She wasn't aboard the Axalon."

"Then you're out of luck here," the white wolf said. "This is prehistoric Earth."

"There's no other Transformers here?"

"Not unless you count the Preds." Blancwulf snarled again.

~Predacons...could my lady be a Predacon?~ From the way Blancwulf was bristling, he decided not to bring up that line of discussion.

Inuarai mused, "Maybe Pantera would know where his lady is. She knows a lot more people than we do."

Harrier shrugged. He had nothing else to do.

"You've got to watch yourself around here," Inuarai advised as they transformed and began heading back to their base. "The place is overrun with Preds...nasty ones."

The little coyote couldn't help but shiver at the memory of what she'd seen at the fallen stasis pod they'd discovered that morning. When she and Blancwulf had arrived, Pantera had already been at the scene...but something else had gotten there well in advance of both of them, and made certain that the Maximal protoform within the pod would never live to see another day. Pantera had hidden the worst of it, but Inuarai had seen enough: the shattered pod lid, the blood and fuel staining the inside of it brown, and the circuitry protruding from a partially or completely severed head...

"I don't understand it," Pantera had muttered. "This kind of savagery is unlike Megatron. He would want the protoform converted into a Predacon. This thing just wanted it dead. I can't understand why..."

"Protoform X?" Inuarai had suggested.

"No. Protoform X...Rampage...leaves a swath of destruction wherever he goes, and he likes to play with his food. This was quick and clean, efficient, brutal but emotionless. Almost surgical. Odds are that Maximal never even knew what happened." Her skin had twitched. "Rampage's psychopathic madness is bad enough. That a rational mind could be capable of such viciousness, that is truly frightening."

Inuarai was shaken out of her gloomy thoughts as their base came into view.

"Tera?" Blancwulf called as she, Inuarai, and Harrier circled the base, which was built around the remnants of Pantera's crashed starhopper.

The main door opened and the elder's voice came echoing from within the ship. "Did you find the stasis pod?"

"One new Maximal here to meet you," Inuarai grinned. "Meet..."

"Artemis," Harrier breathed, as the black jaguar advanced out of the shadows of the hallway.

Pantera's eyebrows raised. She'd given up the name Artemis after her reformatting from Autobot to Maximal...

The newcomer...a foxhound...tilted his head to the side and sniffed. "Artemis? Is that really you?" His mouth opened in a doggy grin. "I say, you've certainly had quite the upgrade!"

The voice was strangely familiar, though Pantera could have sworn she'd never seen the dog-bot before. "Do I...know you?"

"Artemis! It's me, Harrier!" Even as a foxhound, he managed to flash her a charming smile. "Harrier, MAXIMIZE!" And he finished off his transformation with a flourishing bow.

~Harrier. Primus,~ Pantera thought. ~This can't be happening. Harrier's dead.~

She thought back to the last time she'd seen Harrier...the jump-jet Decepticon. He'd been hanging around her headquarters for days, following her around, but when she'd challenged him, he'd had nothing to say to her. She'd been getting impatient, wondering what his motive was, hoping he'd gather together his courage and tell her his reason for being there...

She found out his reason firsthand.

Afterward, she'd inferred that Harrier had been trying to tell her about the Decepticons who'd been planning rebellion...and it couldn't have been an easy decision for him to make, considering that the rebels' leader was none other than Harrier's old best friend, Tempest.

Tempest. That bitch. She'd ruined everything, destroyed the peace that Cybertron had enjoyed ever since the end of the Quintesson Occupation. Artemis had thought she'd finally settled the Cybertronian Wars once and for all. Autobots and Decepticons were united...All Were One...

Tempest's rebellion changed all that.

And the whole thing had started the last night Artemis had seen Harrier...the night when Harrier had pulled her aside for a word that he'd never had a chance to speak. The night when Tempest, armed with a missile launcher, had launched a sudden attack.

Artemis had been knocked unconscious for a week--but Harrier had taken the brunt of the blow. The Autobot medics had said that he'd been killed...

...how had he turned up here?

Tempest. How could she have killed her own best friend?

Harrier, looking not the least bit dead, was grinning up at Pantera from the inside of a Maximal shell.

"Primus, Harrier, how'd you end up here?" she asked.

"I took ship aboard the Axalon."

"No, I mean, how'd you end up a Maximal?"

He grew pensive. "I...I don't rightly know. Do you remember...I was a Decepticon once...wasn't I?"

She nodded.

"I was brought online as a Maximal...part of a group of new sparks supposedly fresh from the factory...but I had these strange memories that the others didn't. Decepticons. Phoenix Corps. The Quintesson Occupation. It's all fuzzy...glimpses here, feelings there...but I'm not supposed to have them. My overseers said I was glitched."

"No," she breathed. "You're not glitched. You really were a Decepticon...and you're supposed to be dead."

He tilted his head at her. "I did some research...trying to figure out why I wasn't quite what they'd programmed me to be. The only thing I found was that there was an extra spark in my shipment when it arrived at the factory for placement into shells. The shipment was delayed due to the box being dropped inside the old Autobot lab. I don't know whether that has anything to do with it or not."

Pantera thought, hard. Could Harrier's spark somehow have survived the destruction of his Decepticon body? She'd heard rumours about a rogue group of Autobot medics, experimenting with spark extraction. Their methods had been condemned by the Maximal elders, but that hadn't stopped the application of the knowledge they'd gathered. Had they experimented on Harrier...supposedly dead?

Regardless, Pantera knew there was no point in wasting time with idle speculation. Harrier was here, and right now, it was more important to teach him to survive in the Beast Wars than to wonder how he'd gotten here.

***

"That should be it," Pantera said, after she brought her debriefing to a close. "Any questions?"

Harrier's head spun with the information he'd absorbed in the last few megacycles. Locations of bases, combat capabilities of Megatron's Predacons, brief descriptions of the other Maximals, warnings about the planet's dangers...but he still had one important thing on his mind.

"Art...Pantera...I'm here for a reason. I'm looking for someone."

"Who?"

He bowed his head, somewhat shyly. "My lady."

The elder looked puzzled. "What's her name?"

"I...I'm not sure. But I've got to find her, I've got to..."

"How come?"

A sigh. "I don't know. I've been looking for her ever since I came online as a Maximal. I hate to think of her, out there alone... She needs me, Pantera. I HAVE to find her!"

"All right." There was no denying the foxhound's agitation. "What's her name?"

"I don't...I don't remember."

"What does she look like?"

"My memory is foggy, but here's what I recall. She's yellow, trimmed with blue...she has ornamentation on a headpiece..." He ran his hands vertically from the sides of his head upward, in an attempt to illustrate. "She's got wings, but I don't remember her transformation...some kind of flying machine or creature...and she looks...like a soldier. A Valkyrie, a goddess of war."

War. Pantera realized with a chill that Harrier was talking about Tempest.

And then Harrier confirmed her suspicions. "Wait. Her name...I think I know. Storm...she was The Storm...Tem..." A pause, a determined look on his face. "Tempest." He looked up at Pantera as if searching for confirmation.

Tempest was dead. After the Decepticon Rebellion failed, Tempest became a war criminal, wanted throughout the galaxy. Pantera had never learned exactly who, or what, killed her--but she'd never forget the day when the Maximal Council of Elders had gone to the morgue to inspect the body.

Tempest's shell had been badly burned out. The sharp wings had hardly been touched, but the engines in her feet had been destroyed and the chest had been ripped to shreds. The face had been mostly undamaged, save for the shattered optic she'd suffered in the Rebellion. Pantera remembered staring down at that still, ruined face, unable to believe that it was finally over. Tempest, her onetime general, her onetime greatest enemy, was no more. In a way, it had seemed strange that the fiery, determined, stubborn and vicious Seeker would die so quietly, with neither a cheer from her killer nor a note of mourning from her former followers. It was as if she'd simply slunk off into a quiet corner of the universe to meet her fate--a surrender that was profoundly unlike her.

Nevertheless, it was over. Pantera realized only now that that had been the day when she'd finally relinquished her identity as Artemis once and for all. Artemis belonged in the past, with the Autobots and Decepticons, with her dear Starscream, with the battles of the Quintesson Occupation and the Decepticon Rebellion. Pantera was looking forward to the future.

Looking into Harrier's eyes, Pantera decided that Harrier deserved a similar future. What good would it do her to tell him that the femme of his dreams was dead? What could he gain from learning that his lady had been a cruel warlord, a war criminal, and his supposed killer? The foxhound was giving her his charming, questioning smile. "Do you know her?" he whispered.

No need to shatter his heart. Better he simply give up on Tempest as a mere phantasm, an illusion...

"No," Pantera told him gently. She paused as he bowed his head. "If you've been reformatted, you're going to be vulnerable to a lot of false visions. A few bugs in the programming. Odds are that your "lady" doesn't even exist...and even if she did, you wouldn't find her here, not while we're stuck on this primitive world."

He nodded slowly.

"Let her go," Pantera whispered. "You have a new life to live. Let her go." She patted Harrier on his shoulder and left him to his thoughts.

A few moments later, the mournful howl of a foxhound rose from the roof of the starhopper and rose into the wild night.

***

Survival of the fittest.

It was the first thought on her mind as she awoke from rest cycle and stalked down the corridors of the Predacon star cruiser to the main control room. Her long twin swords, sheathed in her wings, still bore the bloodstains of the dead Maximal. She cleaned them now, wiping away the traces of her kill without a single twinge of regret. All her life, she'd known no other law than the law of the jungle. The strong lived. The weak died. The strong preyed on the weak. She gave no mercy, and asked for none. Mercy was something she herself had never received.

Her name, now, was Samiel. Once she'd been called Tempest, General of the Cybertronian Forces during the Quintesson Occupation, then Decepticon Supreme Commander during the Decepticon Rebellion...the rebellion that had failed, leaving the Maximals and Predacons in control of Cybertron, leaving her a wanted war criminal, harried throughout the galaxy until she'd cut a deal with the Tri-Predacus Council to reformat her into a Predacon. Now her old Seeker shell was gone, replaced by the form of a metallic archaeopteryx.

She had been sent here to Earth by the Tri-Predacus Council to inquire as to the whereabouts of Agent Tarantulas, Covert Agent Ravage, and Agent Pantera, all of whom had failed to report for many stellar cycles. Primus only knew what had happened to Pantera. Samiel had found Ravage dead and Tarantulas merrily pursuing his own agenda, while some maniacal idiot named Megatron--who took nothing but ambition from his namesake, as far as she was concerned--attempted to set himself up as self-styled leader of the Predacons. Now it was up to her to deal with the mess this egomaniac was making, all the while attempting to eke out a little autonomy for herself. The Maximals were merely an entertaining diversion.

If she were the Tri-Predacus Council, she never would have sent herself here. Didn't they know who they were dealing with?

Of course they did. Of course...because all their other attempts to deal with Megatron had failed. They knew she would succeed and they were willing to take the gamble.

Gamble? What gamble? What could she do to them? She was stuck on this miserable mudball of a planet, having been sent several million years back in time, with no army and no...

...well, she did have an army of sorts. Two other Predacons, Buzzsaw and Laserbeak, had taken a trans-warp shuttle of their own to this time and place, searching for the whereabouts of their brother Ravage. They'd ruined the ship in a crash, and, after they learned that Ravage was dead, they'd attached themselves to her. Old loyalties, from the Decepticon Rebellion.

However, they were not Phoenix Corps.

Briefly, she thought of her old unit--her first true friends. Beretta, Deuce, Chopper...Harrier.

~Harrier...~

She shook her head. She could not afford to waste her time reminiscing. Phoenix Corps was gone, as were her days of glory as a Decepticon leader. She was a war criminal now, wanted across the galaxy for her rebellion against Artemis Prime. She reminded herself that if nothing else, this prehistoric planet was a wonderful place for her to hide while she marshalled her forces and resources. Leaning back in her command chair, she looked around the control room of her star cruiser.

Laserbeak, a black and red male eagle-bot, looked up from the primary computer. "I think I've finally gotten a tag on the renegade Megatron." He frowned. "Megatron's got quite a base set up for himself."

Across the room stood another eagle, almost a mirror-image of Laserbeak save for her more feminine build and her colouration. Where Laserbeak was trimmed with red, Buzzsaw was trimmed with gold. "I think I've broken into the Maximal communications frequencies. If you want to hook up with the Maximals to hunt down Megatron, I've got the channel to call on. That was Ravage's plan, when he left Cybertron."

Samiel snorted. She hadn't thought much of Ravage ever since he sided with Artemis instead of Tempest during the 'Con Rebellion. Still, just because she didn't hold the deceased Ravage in high regard didn't mean his plan was invalid. A temporary peace with the Maximals would serve her well, until Megatron was taken care of. It was unlikely the Maximals would blame her for the dead protoform...she'd been careful to leave no evidence...

"Our first concern is Megatron. What kind of defences does his base have?"

"Aside from his troops, I'd say force-fields, a laser defence grid with auto guns, possibly sonic disrupters." Laserbeak frowned. "I'd have to do a little recon to be sure."

"Hmm. Aside from Tarantulas, no one else knows we're here. I'd rather keep it that way while I can. Still, we're never going to get anywhere sitting around the base...Very well. Make your reconnaissance. But if you're seen...by anyone...I want no survivors left to tell the tale."

***

A dream. Was it possible? Could it be that his lady was no more than a figment of his imagination? The idea left Harrier strangely depressed. He folded his paws and sighed, leaning his back against the side of the starhopper.

An odd scent came to him all of a sudden. He sniffed the air, and his keen nose picked up unusual fragrances on the wind. The smells tickled his nose, teasing, intriguing him. He hopped to his feet, taking a few steps, still sniffing.

"Don't go too far from the base," came Pantera's voice from the doorway. "Remember, the Predacons are still out there, and we've got some ugly ones. Rampage...Megatron...and whatever it was that diced up that other Maximal in its pod."

"Righty-o. I'll be careful."

Pantera sighed as she watched him go. He was still so fresh out of the pod, still suffering from those little mental glitches...and, she realized, she was even more concerned about him than she would be for the average Maximal, simply because she'd known him before. He'd had a hard go of life and he had deserved so much more than to play lackey to that Tempest bitch... She hoped he survived long enough to be able to enjoy the second chance at life that fate had granted him. But she couldn't confine him to the base forever. ~He was an experienced soldier,~ she reminded herself, ~a onetime captain of a Quint-hunter starship, and he's heavily armed.~ That little foxhound shell came complete with a laser-powered double-barrelled hunting rifle, twin duelling pistols, and a short sword.

"Be careful, Harrier," she murmured.

***

"Quite the base indeed," Laserbeak muttered as he and Buzzsaw returned from their flyby of Megatron's base.

Buzzsaw flashed her partner an avian grin. "I always did appreciate a challenge." She turned on her communications link. "Buzzsaw to Samiel. We've got the information."

"Good. I've got your coordinates on the main computer. Come on in to base. Samiel out."

Far below, the little foxhound pricked up his ears, sniffing. Two eagles were passing by overhead, and it was from them that the odd scent emanated. Their odour was a combination of living bird and metal plating, with the distinct aroma of energon...

His beast mode took over and he let out a ringing howl, in the manner of foxhounds who've found the trail of possible prey.

Laserbeak and Buzzsaw paused, beating their wings, hovering in midair. "What was that?" Laserbeak demanded.

"Down there," Buzzsaw said, gesturing with a wing and narrowing her optics. "Let's check it out."

The two birds descended in a screaming dive. Harrier, still thinking like an animal, paced in circles, barking...and then he activated his VTOL engines and rose up to meet them, snapping at them as they went past.

"It's a Maximal!" Laserbeak exclaimed.

"Slag! Samiel told us not to be seen."

"Then we'll just have to take him out. Laserbeak, TERRORIZE!"

"Buzzsaw, TERRORIZE!"

The little foxhound's ears drooped as he noticed the two Predacons diving on him, firing their lasers. He was really in a spot now...and as his robot side began re-emerging, he remembered that he could transform too.

"Harrier, MAXIMIZE!" He transformed in mid-air, still hovering on his VTOL jets, drew his duelling pistols, and began firing a furious volley at the Predacons. "I say, two of you and one of me, not very sporting!"

"You picked the wrong day to be out alone, Maximal," Buzzsaw growled. She came in at him, but he twisted around her gunfire and responded with some shots of his own that clipped her wing and caused her to plow into the ground. But while he was distracted, Laserbeak came up behind him, tackling him and causing them both to fall end-over-end to the soil. Laserbeak and Harrier threw wild punches at one another, neither one really connecting with any vital areas, as they scrabbled to get their bearings. Buzzsaw was staying back, out of the fight.

A new voice. "What's been taking you?"

A voice that was strangely familiar to Harrier...

"Maximal." That was Buzzsaw.

Laserbeak pushed Harrier away from him and backed up.

The cold chuckle and the words that followed it didn't sink into Harrier's mind. "Stand back. He's mine." The foxhound-bot, still on his back, looked up, trying to see who the owner of the new voice was and whether she was friend or foe.

And then he saw her.

Just like his dreams, a vision in yellow and blue...yellow feathers, blue trim. Yellow helmet, blue feathers like pointed spires. Strong wings, martial stance, chiselled features...it was her, definitely her. Other ladies had the beauty of flowers, the grace of nature's creatures, the wonder of the skies. His lady's beauty was that of a precision machine, a weapon built to kill.

Laserbeak and Buzzsaw were retreating, allowing her to come forward. Harrier pushed himself onto his knees, stunned at the suddenness from which she'd stepped out of dreams and into reality. He bowed to his lady, holding up his hands to her...

She punched him across the jaw.

He reeled backwards from the hit, and hadn't even touched ground before she was after him again, spinning around and landing a kick to his midsection. He whimpered in confusion and pain, rolling to his feet; she kicked him again across the face. Fighting her was not even an option; it did not cross his mind. He pulled himself up into a kneeling position, mouthing the words..."my lady..."

But as he'd been collecting himself, she'd been drawing her weapons--a pair of long, thin swords sheathed in her wings. She hissed at him now. "Fight, you pathetic Maximal."

"My lady, I cannot fight you..."

She punched him, kneed him in the gut. He reeled away but would not draw his pistols.

Her optics were baiting, cold. She seemed to be relishing the fight. "Fight or die."

"My lady, I will not harm you." He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

Her response was a single slice of her right blade, cutting him open from throat to stomach.

He whimpered in disbelief as another kick set him sprawling backwards. Up on his elbows, he looked down and verified that the damage was not, in fact, a nightmare...he really could see his inner circuitry, his organs... The cut was so clean that there was almost no blood, but the slow ooze of fuel from several cords betrayed the fact that he was badly, badly injured.

~What have I done...~

~I betrayed her.~

He didn't fully understand, but somewhere in his cloudy brain was the sense that he deserved this punishment. And he was sorry, so dreadfully sorry, and it had nothing to do with the pain. It had only to do with her...he'd not been worthy of her.

"My lady," he mouthed. "I'm sorry..."

She stepped on his chest, sending a wave of agony through his body. The tip of her left blade rested in the hollow of his throat.

"Idiot," she hissed, "you should have fought for your life." But she tilted her head, as if intrigued. "Tell me your name, before you die."

"Harrier," he wheezed, the name almost unintelligible.

"What?" she demanded, her voice suddenly soft.

"Duke Harrier," he moaned, "of the Decepticon Empire."

***

"Where's Harrier?" Blancwulf asked Pantera.

"He should be somewhere around the base." The elder gestured vaguely.

"No, he's not," Inuarai replied. "We've been looking for him."

Pantera's head rose, an expression of worry on her features. "Slaggit! I told him to stay close to the base!"

"You figure he wandered away somewhere?" the wild dog Maximal asked.

"Let's hope so, Inuarai." Pantera turned on the scanners. "Nothing. This thing doesn't have much power; he must be out of range. Damn it, Harrier! I thought he knew better!" She sighed. "Well, nothing else for it. Let's go find him."

***

Samiel stared down at the Maximal's carcass in abject horror.

Harrier...her Harrier? Impossible. Harrier was dead...

~...and you should know, you killed him.~

But who else would even dream of introducing himself as the Duke of the Decepticon Empire?

"Buzzsaw," she said tersely, stepping off of Harrier's chest. "Put him in stasis lock."

Laserbeak tilted his head. "With that damage, it would probably be better to finish him now. He's unlikely to...keep...for long."

"I said, put him in stasis lock! I want him alive. Buzzsaw, we will take him back to base where you will effect repairs."

Buzzsaw frowned. "After a slice like that?"

Samiel was suddenly all flattery. "You're an artist, aren't you, Buzzsaw? A precise and capable surgeon? That's a very clean cut. Someone of your talent should have no trouble repairing the damage."

Buzzsaw, preening, nodded. "I should be able to take care of it," she said, as she finished engaging Harrier's stasis lock and cast another glance over the cut.

"Interrogation?" Laserbeak asked, guessing at Samiel's motive.

The yellow archaeopteryx glanced away. "You could say that."

***

"Maximal base, this is Agent Samiel of the Tri-Predacus Council." ~So much for radio silence,~ she thought, ~but after taking a look at that data Laserbeak and Buzzsaw collected, there's no way the three of us can breach Megatron's defences, take out the other Predacons, and kill Megatron on our own. We need help, and the Maximals are the only ones who can give it to us. It seems my Maximal hunting days are over...at least until Megatron's taken care of.~

Somewhere in the ship, Buzzsaw was repairing Harrier. Hopefully it was going well...a simple CR chamber couldn't fix that deep slice...

...no, she couldn't think about that right now.

"Agent Samiel to Maximal Base, do you copy."

"This is Maximal base," came the hesitant reply in a deep voice.

"You the leader?"

"No. Just a moment."

She caught the words, "Thank you Rhinox," and then... "This is Optimus Primal, Maximal leader. Who am I speaking to?"

"Agent Samiel, of the Tri-Predacus Council."

***

"Great, more Preds?" Rattrap demanded, staring at Optimus.

"What do you want?" the ape-bot asked into the comm link.

"I wish to hold a meeting with your council of leaders, regarding the criminal Megatron."

"The "criminal" Megatron?" Depth Charge tilted his head, questioningly.

"Before you arrived," Silverbolt explained, "Ravage came to earth, hunting Megatron."

"And, if you'll remember," the rat-bot sneered, "Ravage backstabbed us. You can't trust Preds!"

But Optimus and Samiel had already agreed on a time...and a place. "We'll be expecting you then," Optimus said. "Optimus Primal out."

"You're invitin' 'em HERE?!" Rattrap spluttered.

"Just Samiel. At least this way we know we're not walking into a trap. If she was planning anything shady, I don't think she'd be willing to come into our base alone."

"But she's a PRED!"

"She hasn't done anything to us yet," Optimus retorted. "And if what she says is true--that she wants to help us get rid of Megatron--I don't dare turn her away. Right now the Beast Wars are in deadlock. I'd feel a lot better if we were rid of Megatron and didn't have to worry about him getting his hands on the Ark."

"Fine," Depth Charge growled. "While you play with Megatron, I'm taking care of X."

Black Arachnia snorted. "Watch we just trade one enemy for another. I'll bet Agent Samiel simply takes over where Megatron left off."

"In that case, better one enemy than two. We need to hear what she has to say. Cheetor! I want you to search out Pantera. Samiel wants to meet with all the Maximal leaders--and that means Pantera too."

***

Satisfied, Samiel set down the radio just as Buzzsaw walked into the room. "Report on the Maximal's condition?" the archaeopteryx demanded.

"Stabilized and recovering," the gold and black eagle replied. "He should be waking up any moment now. He's out of the CR chamber and resting in Room 116. There's a lock on the door, and Laserbeak's confiscated his weaponry. Little bastard was armed to the teeth, too." She winced and rubbed her injured wing. "Now, if you don't mind, I've got a few repairs of my own to take care of. He clipped me but good."

"Laserbeak, you have command of the control room until Buzzsaw gets out of CR. I'm going to take a look at our prisoner."

"Give him hell for me, boss," Buzzsaw growled, making her way to the CR.

Samiel merely nodded before she headed down the hall to the armoury. She selected another weapon of hers--the needle gun--and the case of cartridges that went with it. Briefly, she admired the needle gun. It had been a gift from the Tri-Predacus Council--a very useful gift. She holstered it and proceeded, to Room 116.

She paused at the door, feeling almost shy...then steeled herself, opened the lock, and stepped in. The Maximal was resting on a bed, breathing deeply. His form was unfamiliar to her and for a moment Samiel wondered if this was really Harrier.

She'd know soon enough.

Samiel shut the door behind her, locking it again. Then she laid the cartridge case down on a nearby table, snapped it open, and carefully examined her collection of needle darts. There were tranquilizers of various strengths, paralyzers, and poisons that would kill in less than a megacycle. Right now, though, she was looking for...

She selected one specific dart and loaded it into her needle gun.

Truth serum.

It was not mind control per se...she could not control another's body...but the drug relaxed her subject, disoriented him, made him inclined to talk. It had all the benefits of drunkenness and the dream state combined. It dulled the wits, allayed suspicions, made the subject docile and obedient.

If this individual was really Harrier, she'd know soon enough.

On the bed, the Maximal was stirring. He blinked once, twice, and then focused his optics on her. "My...lady?"

Carefully, almost tenderly, she found the main vein tube in his left arm and pulled the needle gun's trigger.

He lay still for several minutes, whimpering softly as the serum raced through his system. She was taken by surprise when he rolled onto his side, resting his head against her arm. Carefully, she curled down beside him on the bed, noting that he snuggled up against her almost instinctively.

Gentleness...she'd get farther with this one if she was easy on him to begin with.

"What's your name?" She kept her voice calculatingly soft, running her hand along the length of his arm, coaxing the information out of him.

"Duke Harrier...of the Decepticon Empire," he mumbled.

She'd half expected him to say something different.

"Allegiance?"

"Decepticon...Phoenix Corps."

Her fluids chilled; Phoenix Corps had been her long-ago squadron, founded by herself and Harrier.

"Do you know who I am?"

The optics flickered, focusing. "My lady...Tem...Tem-pest." A weak smile.

She rewarded him by a soft caress on the face. He relaxed, closing his eyes, sighing contentedly.

"Harrier. How did we meet?"

"Tempest...I'm tired..." He whimpered a little.

"Harrier, this is important."

"You know this." Harrier rolled onto his back, then winced and returned to his position on his side. "My stomach...hurts..."

"You've been injured."

"Am I..."

"You're fine," she soothed, feeling driven to stroke his shoulder. He smiled, snuggling into the bed, leaning his head over close to hers. "But I need you to tell me this. It's very important. How did we meet?"

"You came...into the Last Best Place...and saved me. You...with those pirates...we fought them..." He blinked up at her. "You were...so beautiful...and you asked me to come with you."

He'd gotten it right. There was no way any Maximal could have known that story. Most of the Decepticons hadn't known that story.

Harrier continued, "And then...we went back to Kilair...to the mayor's house...and we..." A big, dreamy smile. "You were my first lover..."

~Primus, if Laserbeak and Buzzsaw hear this...~

~Laserbeak and Buzzsaw be damned.~

She looked down at him, hardly knowing what to think. He was the real Harrier, all right. She didn't know how, or why, but somehow, her best friend was alive again and right in front of her, and his thoughts were on her alone. She couldn't even begin to make sense of the roil of emotions that welled up inside her.

A plan, a simple plan. Destroy Megatron. Take over Predacon army. Eliminate Maximals. Spread out from Earth and conquer. Anything to keep her busy, to take her mind off her loneliness...dammit, no, survival of the fittest. She was simply doing her part to uphold the greatest law of life: survival of the fittest.

Harrier had not figured into the equation, and now, she didn't know what to do with him. She looked down at the Maximal whose head was resting in the palm of her hand.

"Tempest, I'm tired," he murmured. "Can I sleep now?"

"Yes," she whispered, reaching out her other hand and stroking his head, half expecting her fingers to pass through empty air. "Get some rest and you'll feel better."

"Okay." A pause. "Tempest?"

"Hm?"

"Are you...busy?"

No, she wasn't. Laserbeak and Buzzsaw could watch the base. She didn't want to take her optics off her new...prisoner, was he? "No."

"C'mere." He moved over a little, making room for her on the bed.

She paused.

~Maximal...~

~HARRIER...~

Two hundred years alone, hunted across the galaxy by Autobots and Loyal Decepticons, hiding her true identity under a Predacon badge and a new name.

What the slag.

She seated herself on the bed, setting her needle gun down on the table beside it, and swung her legs up beside Harrier. The foxhound bot was smiling peacefully now as she lowered herself down beside him and curled up against him. He made no move to hold her, to pin her...he simply nuzzled up next to her and drifted off to sleep. It was she who wrapped her arms, possessively, around him.

It was not like her to relax her guard. Even now, she could not do it entirely. She rested in a light doze, still aware of any movement around her; however, her thoughts were centered not on what a third party might think upon entering the room, but rather on the warmth and rhythmic breathing of Harrier by her side.

***

Pantera paced through the jungle underbrush, her sharp eyes scanning for Harrier, her thoughts in a roil. Harrier was a fully grown adult; she shouldn't have to babysit him. He knew better than to pull a stunt like this...

~...or rather, Harrier the Decepticon knew better. Who's to say what the reformatting did to him? Decepticon into Maximal? Who knows how many bugs are in his system?~

Logical or no, she felt responsible for him.

The sound of twigs snapping came to her sensitive ears. Could that be...? Whatever it was, it was downwind--she'd be able to see it before she could smell it...

And then, the bushes in front of her parted to reveal...

"Cheetor!"

"Hey, mama cat. I've been looking for you. Optimus is calling a meeting tonight. He says he's been contacted by a Tri-Predacus council agent who wants to take out Megatron...and she's looking for you."

"The Tri-Predacus Council. Slag."

Cheetor was talking... "We tried to radio you, but we were getting too much interference." ...but Pantera wasn't listening. She'd been sent to Earth by the Tri-Predacus Council, who wanted to know the location of Tarantulas and Ravage. Ravage's mission had been to capture the renegade Megatron and bring him back to Cybertron.

"I couldn't report back...all my communications equipment was damaged when my star hopper crashed!"

~And,~ she admitted to herself, ~since I arrived on Earth, I've had bigger concerns than Megatron.~

Like Protoform X...Rampage. She and Depth Charge had spent countless hours hunting X. Pantera felt partly responsible for X's being here, since the other Maximal Elders had refused to destroy his shell...

~I've got to stop feeling responsible for everyone!~

Cheetor was shrugging. "See ya then." And in a flash of gold, the cheetah was gone.

Pantera felt badly for being so distracted, but she had a lot of things on her mind. She'd neglected the job that the Tri-Predacus Council had paid her for. She'd have to go to this meeting. If she couldn't find Harrier in the next few megacycles, the foxhound would just have to wait.

~I never should have let him...~

Responsibilities...too many responsibilities. Mercenaries weren't supposed to have so many concerns on their minds.

***

"Just what is Samiel doing to that poor Maximal?" Laserbeak asked, his voice falling into sarcasm on the words "poor Maximal."

"What do you care about a Maximal?" Buzzsaw retorted, deliberately blocking the surveillance scanner with her wings, giving her partner a mischievous wink.

"I don't. Call it curiosity about why she's been in there with him for over four megacycles now. Is she interrogating him?"

A smirk. "I suppose you could call it that...in certain circumstances, it is an effective method of withdrawing information..." She folded her wings, giving Buzzsaw a look at the activity in the room.

Laserbeak's jaw dropped. "Primus...with a Maximal? That's sick!"

Buzzsaw shrugged. "Matter of opinion."

"You've never interfaced with a Maximal...have you?!"

She laughed at Laserbeak's consternation. "No." The yellow and black eagle ran a hand under Laserbeak's chin. "What, jealous? Or...secretly intrigued?"

"No." He shot one more look at the scanner and shivered. "Maybe we ought to give the boss some privacy."

"Hey, she's the one who told me to keep an eye on the cameras."

Laserbeak folded his wings and stormed over to the perimeter sensors, which were all reading normally. "First she subjects us to endless speeches on the inferiority of Maximals, next she ends up..."

"What she does in her command ship is her own concern," Buzzsaw thought, and mentally added, ~as long as she stays away from my mate.~

Laserbeak, unable to hide his curiosity any longer, shot another glance at the surveillance screen. "Look, is it me, or does that Maximal not seem to be complaining?"

Buzzsaw shrugged, and then snickered. "Regardless, it seems like the boss is getting what she wants out of him..."

The red and black male eagle shuddered. "I don't envy him, that's for certain."

"Good." Buzzsaw felt considerably relieved. Samiel was a predator, accustomed to taking what she wanted, and although Buzzsaw was willing to fight Samiel for Laserbeak, she had a sense that she would lose in a battle against the yellow archaeopteryx. Better for all concerned if that fight never took place.

"Don't get me wrong--Samiel is a highly effective leader--but the idea of interfacing with someone who spends the whole time looking down at you with those icy red optics, like she's trying to figure out the fastest way to kill you, is not my idea of appealing."

"Well...how about someone who looks up at you the whole time..." Buzzsaw leaned back in her chair, giving a sort of demonstration of that look to Laserbeak "...like she's trying to figure out the fastest way to..." and Buzzsaw's words broke off in a naughty giggle.

"You mean...here...now...in the control room?!?" the male gasped, flustered.

"Why not?" Buzzsaw grinned. "It's not like the boss is going to interrupt us...she's got her..." a knowing glance at the monitor "...hands full right now."

Laserbeak smirked. "I suppose it's the safest place in the base, when it comes to that...there's no monitors on us here!"

"Monitor this," Buzzsaw said with a smile, and suddenly Laserbeak didn't care if all of Cybertron was watching...he had more important things on his mind.

***

Pantera's voice came over the communication link. "Have you found any sign of him?"

"Nothing," Blancwulf sighed. She and Inuarai exchanged concerned looks.

"Come back to base. I've received a transmission from Optimus. He wants me to come to the base at the Ark for a meeting. I need you to watch the starhopper while I'm gone."

"What about Harrier?" the coyote demanded.

"He's going to have to fend for himself, Inuarai." A pause. "I know. I don't like it either. But our forces are too thin already and we can't leave the hopper unguarded. Harrier's an old soldier. He should be able to take care of himself."

"Yeah," Blancwulf remarked after the comm link clicked off, "unless he runs into Rampage or that thing that killed that protoform." The white wolf growled, gritting her teeth, as she changed her course back to home base, with Inuarai following behind her.

***

"Tempest?"

Something was pushing at the archaeopteryx's shoulder. "Tempest? Wake up!"

She blinked. The foxhound nudged her with his nose again. "Tempest!"

"All right, I'm awake!"

Harrier pointed towards the door with his nose and slunk behind her.

Buzzsaw stood in the doorway, an amused smirk on her face. Samiel growled with irritation. "Samiel, TERRORIZE!" She crossed her arms, glaring at Buzzsaw.

"Aren't you two cute, curled up together in beast mode."

"Spit it out, Buzzsaw. I asked not to be disturbed."

"Time check, Boss. Your meeting with Primal is in one megacycle." She turned and walked out.

~Damn,~ Samiel thought. It wasn't like her to forget such an important detail...she couldn't afford to get slack! Just because Harrier...

She turned back to the foxhound. "Oh, yes...Harrier."

The Maximal gave her a doggy grin, but when he spoke, his voice was soft and serious. "How are you doing, Tempest?"

"Samiel." Her optics grew distant. "My name is Samiel now."

"Samiel." He spoke it as if testing it out. "I suppose I'm going to have to get used to that."

"Damn straight you will. I don't need the entire population of Cybertron drawing a correlation between me, Samiel, and the dead war criminal Tempest."

"War...criminal?" He blinked up at her; his breath caught in his throat. "Temp...ah, Sammi...what did you do?"

What had happened, in those years that he'd been dea...ah, dormant?

~He doesn't know?!~ Samiel thought.

~No, of course he doesn't know, he died...you shot...~

~...was he about to betray me to Artemis? Was that why he was in my line of fire?~

~no, don't THINK about that!~

"Never mind," she growled.

"All right."

She focused in on him with a stern glare.

"You don't need to tell me, if you don't want to. I don't care what you did." He looked left, right, as if ashamed of the activation code he spoke. "Harrier, MAXIMIZE!" Transformed, he took her hand. "The point is we're together again."

Samiel looked down at the Maximal logos on his armbands.

"You were ever a creature of honour, Harrier," she said slowly. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Sammi..."

"And don't call me Sammi in front of the troops."

"Samiel, then. Don't you understand? We're together! The beginning of a whole new Phoenix Corps...a whole new start." He dropped her hand, took a pace backwards. "Isn't it?"

"And what about your oath to the Maximals?"

He looked down, suddenly guilty, at his armbands...then back to her face. His Tempest...and yet, not his Tempest. Her face was all sharp angles of grey metal, harsh, almost ugly. She looked weathered, old. There was a dullness in her optics that hadn't been there before. Her old fire was flickering now. She'd once been so full of hope and energy--what had happened?

"Tempest," he whispered, "what in Primus' name happened to you? Your face...you look so...tired..."

An expression of grief flickered in those optics before they returned to their usual hardened stare. "What, you think I'm ugly now?" But he could read the pain under the anger.

"No...not ugly...but so battered, so tired..." He made a noise that as good as said, what a shame. "I can tell you've had a hard time. Who's been beside you, Sammi? Who's been watching your back?"

~No one...~

"I can watch my own back," she muttered.

~Alone...cold, driven, hunted...alone...~

"Will you let me make your life easier, though?" he whispered, and then, before she could answer, "Beast mode. Computer, change activation codes, Predacon."

Samiel's optics widened as Harrier shut down for a moment, then re-started. The little foxhound looked up at her. "Harrier, TERRORIZE."

She took his hand and gripped it tightly. "But...the Maximals..."

"I never made a promise to the Maximals. I was brought online as a Maximal and they presumed my loyalty. But I am Duke Harrier of the Decepticon Empire and I have an older oath to honour." He paused. "If you'll have me."

Samiel felt a strange warmth in her core processor...an emotion she hadn't felt in far too long, a feeling she could hardly name.

"To the future, then," she said with a smile.

"And...just so you know...I could never think you ugly."

Harrier was about to presume that she'd let him kiss her when Laserbeak opened the door. Samiel turned with an irritated growl.

"You want an escort to the Maximal base, boss?"

"I've got one," Samiel replied with a grin. "Our new Predacon hunter--Duke Harrier."

"Maybe you want to escort someone else. You got a message from Optimus Primal. He's found the 'bot you were looking for--Agent Pantera."

"Pantera," Samiel hissed. She'd been looking for Pantera since she arrived on Earth, but had yet to find her. All she knew was a brief description from the Tri-Predacus council--a black jaguar mercenary, nominally Maximal. Served them right for sending a Maximal to do a Predacon's job.

~This "Pantera" might be scared to own up to her failure. No, I'll meet her there...but it might do to send someone else and make sure she arrives.~

"I'll go alone," Samiel said. "Harrier, you can follow Laserbeak's directions and escort the mysterious Pantera. Just don't tell her that I've found out her failure, hmm?"

Pantera. Artemis.

Harrier suddenly found himself in a horrible predicament.

What was he going to do? Escort Artemis/Pantera right into Samiel's wrath without a warning? Or...betray Samiel?

~...again...~

No. He'd looked so long for his lady. He would not let her down now...Pantera be damned.

~Samiel won't kill her...not at the Maximal base with the other Maximals there,~ he tried to reassure himself, but he couldn't stop the uneasy feeling in his fuel tank as he headed off for Pantera's starhopper.

"You think you can trust the Maximal?" Laserbeak asked Samiel.

"Predacon, now," the archaeopteryx retorted. "And yes, I think I can."

***

There was a knocking at the door of Pantera's makeshift base. Blancwulf adjusted a few dials, trying to bring the image up on the main view screen. The screen fuzzed, then cleared, revealing the form of a white and copper robot outside.

"Harrier!" Blancwulf dashed to open the door. "Harrier, where in the Pit have you been?"

"We thought the Preds had gotten you," Inuarai added.

Harrier looked almost embarrassed but said nothing. "Oh, no need to worry about me..."

"I don't think you get it," Blancwulf growled. "We've been searching for you all day."

"No need to trouble yourself on my account." He stared at the ground, shuffling a foot. "From now on you needn't worry about me."

It was then that Blancwulf noticed the new insignia on Harrier's armbands. The red Maximal wolf heads had been traded for the yellow insect logo of the Predacons. She growled, the hair rising on the back of her neck, as Harrier blinked at her in bewilderment. "I say, is there a..."

He bit off when Blancwulf grabbed him by the throat and rammed her rail gun into his stomach. "Pred," she snarled. "Give me one reason not to..."

"Let him go," came Pantera's order.

"But..."

"I said, let him go." The black and chrome elder crossed her arms and gave Blancwulf a firm glance.

Reluctantly, Blancwulf did as she was told. "Traitor," she shot at him, stalking across the room.

Harrier stared after her helplessly. "I say, I only came to see how you were doing."

Pantera examined the foxhound's upper arm. "I see you've changed your loyalties."

He looked at her blankly. "No, I..." Then he followed her gaze to his insignia. "Oh."

"Yes. Oh. Do you mind explaining those to me?"

"I..." He hung his head. "I didn't have a choice."

"The Predacons threatened you? Said they'd kill you unless you joined them? Well, never mind what they say. We look after our own."

"No, you don't understand...I had to...have to..."

There was something more to it, Pantera was sure of it. She figured that if she could get the foxhound alone, she could get him talking. She was just about to make the attempt when...

"You need someone to go with you to your meeting?" Blancwulf asked. "I wouldn't be trusting anyone from the Tri-Predacus Council." As the white wolf growled the last, Inuarai noticed a disturbed look crossing Harrier's features.

"No, pup. I'll be fine. You three stay here and watch the ship," the black jaguar ordered. "I'll be back as soon as possible and we can work this out then."

As Pantera was talking, Harrier transformed to beast mode and slunk off down the corridor. By the time Pantera left the base, the Transmetal foxhound was already crouching in the shrubbery outside. He waited until she was out of sight, then activated his VTOL turbines and trailed her at a distance, following her scent. Meanwhile, inside the ship, Inuarai and Blancwulf were looking for him.

"Gone again," Inuarai sighed.

"Off to tell Megatron, no doubt," Blancwulf growled.

"There's no proof of that. He didn't attack us." Inuarai shook her head. "Predacon logos. What was he thinking?"

Pantera was wondering the same thing, but only briefly. Then she turned her attention to more immediate concerns, like the meeting at the Ark. Harrier would need some time to work the glitches out of his system, but those could wait. Right now, she had bigger fish--like Megatron--to fry.

***

Rattrap welcomed Pantera to the Ark with the words, "Your boss is looking for you."

"Boss?" Pantera repeated, her optics narrowing. "I don't have a boss."

Optimus Primal stuck his massive head in from the hatch that lead to the main bay of the Ark, where the Autobots and Decepticons lay in stasis cycle and where they would lay for another two million years, if only Megatron did not interfere. "She's an emissary of the Tri-Predacus Council. Agent Samiel."

"I don't know any Samiel."

"She says she was sent here when you and Ravage failed to report in."

"Ravage is dead. You know that."

"Maybe she doesn't. Regardless, it seems the Tri-Predacus Council is becoming impatient, and her presence here means we must include her in our plans to deal with Megatron."

"Predacons are not known for their trustworthiness."

"I know that," Optimus sighed, "but right now we have no choice but to give her a chance."

Pantera sighed. "Very well. Where is she?"

"She's already here." He cast a glance back into the gloom of the main bay.

Pantera stepped through the massive doors, unable to stop the fur from rising on the back of her neck as little prickles ran up and down her spine. All around her rose the shells of the sleeping Transformers of the Great War. Soundwave. Ironhide. Thundercracker. Optimus Prime himself. All individuals she'd known very well indeed...all of whom were dead in the world she'd come from. But now they were here in front of her, larger than life (or maybe their size came from the fact that her shell was so much smaller), just waiting to reawaken.

And behind her...Starscream.

~Primus, he looks just like he always did... except it's as if he's had a bit too much to drink,~ she thought, looking at the red and white body sprawled back against the side of the Ark, and the handsome face she knew so very well...

"Samiel?" Optimus Primal called, looking around the room. His expression was somewhat concerned.

~Great, bring the Pred in here and then lose track of her,~ Pantera thought.

Rattrap was evidently thinking the same thing. "Boss monkey...ah, no offence, but are you SURE we should let the Pred in here? For all we know, she might decide to take up where Megatron left off!"

"Never," came the hissing voice out of the dimness.

Pantera turned her head, focusing in on the source of the sound. A shiver lifted her fur yet more when she realized it was coming from the sleeping form of the original Megatron; the only thing that stopped her from drawing her batons was the knowledge that this voice was not Megatron's, but a female's. The rounded edge of Megatron's helmet protruded out of the darkness, and in the shadowed area behind his head, Pantera's keen vision picked out two glowing red almond-shaped optics.

The first thought Pantera had was of a bird, perched on Megatron's shoulder, but the first impression she got was that of a snake, as a long serpentine neck wrapped itself around the side of Megatron's helmet and looked down on them. The head was lizardlike, but crested with a bright red plume.

"The status quo must be preserved," the Predacon Samiel said. "That is the reason why Megatron's madness must cease."

Pantera bristled instinctively at the hissing voice. The feline spoke, almost hoping her words would goad the Predacon into action and give the excuse for a fight. "If you're wondering about Ravage, he's dead. He was killed while aiding Megatron, supposedly under orders from your perch there, the original Megatron."

"I don't care about the original Megatron's orders. The playing field must be level."

"Even at the cost of a Decepticon victory?"

"A victory must be fairly won or it is no victory at all. Altering the time stream is the supreme act of cheating."

"I didn't realize you Predacons cared so much about honour," Rattrap sneered.

"I never said anything about honour, mouse," Samiel hissed. "My concern is survival of the fittest."

Pantera's fur prickled again, and her limbs shuddered involuntarily. There was something insidiously familiar in the Predacon's tone.

Agent Samiel continued, "The war must continue. The Autobots and Decepticons must battle for supremacy."

"And the Decepticons will lose," Pantera replied.

"More's the pity," Samiel countered, and then the red optics narrowed into slits. "Nevertheless, there will be survivors...and the battle will go on...war without end, as long as our kind shall last, and then the fighting will fall to others, from now till the end of time."

Optimus frowned. "That comment doesn't exactly inspire confidence."

"No worries, Optimus Primal. We are allies until Megatron has been brought to justice and returned to the Cybertron of our time. After that, well...then and only then shall our truce be ended, if we so agree."

"You can't trust a Pred!" Rattrap argued, and Pantera was inclined to concur.

Soft laughter from Megatron's shoulder. "Oh, I may be many things, but never a liar." The ruby optics swung over to Pantera. "Agent Pantera, you have failed to report to the Council."

"I crashed," the feline responded, gritting her teeth. She didn't care to be held to account by anyone, especially a Predacon, especially THIS Predacon. "My ship was damaged. The communications equipment no longer worked, and even if it had, I had no means to send a signal through the trans-warp disruption." There was something about Samiel's voice that was troubling Pantera, and while she couldn't pinpoint what it was, it was making her even more angry at having to justify herself this way.

"I need no excuses. You failed. Period." The red eyes narrowed. "However, you are here now, and as such we shall proceed."

"I don't take orders from you," Pantera growled.

"I was sent to make up for your shortcomings," the Predacon hissed back. "My authority now overrides yours."

Pantera and Samiel's optics locked in a stare as each dared the other to blink first. Finally, the feline could take it no longer. "As a former member of the Maximal Council of Elders..."

The serpentine head rose, as if taken aback. Pantera allowed herself a private smirk, thinking she'd one-upped the Pred.

Then more of that soft, hissing laughter filled the room, ruining Pantera's presumed victory. "Artemis Prime." A pause. "Or is it just plain Artemis now?"

"It's Pantera." ~What in the Pit...how did she know?~

"Mercenary hired out to the Tri-Predacus council." The voice was soft and mocking. "Oh, it seems neither of us are what we used to be..."

Pantera's anger rose within her. Whatever she said, whatever she did, this Predacon seemed to be one step ahead of her, twisting her words, playing her. Laughing at her through those ruby optics. All the fur on her body prickled into quivering goosebumps while that nightmare voice chuckled from its perch on the Decepticon leader's shoulder. The whole situation was taking on the quality of a bad dream--a sense she'd had only once before, during the beginning of Tempest's Rebellion--and finally, she couldn't take it any more. "Who in the Pit are you?" Pantera yelled.

A chuckle. "Agent Samiel..."

"Get down here!" The black jaguar-bot pointed to the ground in front of her.

There was a flurry of feathers high above as the Predacon launched off of Megatron's shoulder and spread her wings. Bold plumage adorned the wings, tipped with little claws, and the long thin tail hung heavy with feathers.

Not a snake, nor a bird. An archaeopteryx, feathered brilliant yellow and electric blue...

The Predacon flew a circle around Starscream's head and dove down over his chest, crying her access code. "SAMIEL TERRORIZE!"

She landed, lightly, on Starscream's knee. The bird feet swung around backwards, leaving robot feet that were orange to the knee and resembled boots. The blue feathers of the tail formed a half-skirt around the back of her waist. The bird head prominently adorned her chest; arms folded out from her sides. Her shoulders were trimmed with gold guards and her wings rose, still functional, behind her back in a style reminiscent of the old Decepticon Seekers. But the feature that sent a chill down Pantera's neuro circuitry was the yellow rounded helmet, a more rounded version of the original Megatron's, a style that had once been augmented by a single thin blue spire rising vertically on each side of the head, but was now adorned by a spray of three blue feathers on each side...

Cold ruby optics stared down at her from a dark grey, chiselled face.

"Tempest," Pantera choked.

The Predacon tilted her head. "Tempest is dead, Arty...ah...Pantera." And the slightest hint of a smile tugged at the mouth.

"Tempest?" Optimus Primal asked. "The war criminal?"

"Pred's right," Rattrap responded, "Tempest is deader 'n' a stripped screw. The Maximal Council of Elders personally verified it..."

~I verified it,~ Pantera thought. And indeed, Tempest's remains had been lifeless...but her spark... The body had been burned out, partially smelted...enough to hide the fact that the spark had been reformatted.

And now, Tempest grinned down at her smugly from Starscream's knee.

"GET OFF OF HIM!" Pantera shrilled, drawing her batons and leaping up to Starscream's other knee.

"Hold your fire!" Optimus Primal cried, but his order went unheeded by either participant. As Pantera raised her batons, Tempest's arm dropped, reaching for a weapon at her side...

A volley of gunfire knocked one of Pantera's batons from her left hand. She glanced quickly in the direction from which the shot had come, trying to determine whether she faced a second enemy.

It wasn't Primal or Rattrap who'd fired. Harrier stood in the doorway, a duelling pistol in each hand, smoke rising from the barrels. Both guns were trained on Pantera, and though the foxhound-bot looked decidedly guilty, there was a determined set to his mouth.

"Lower your weapons," Harrier said firmly.

Harrier's change of allegiance suddenly made sense to Pantera. ~Tempest...he ran into Tempest...his "lady." She's the one who made him switch...she's got her hooks in him again.~

Harrier hadn't entered the room alone. Rhinox was right behind him, laying a rough hand on the Predacon's shoulder, telling him to drop his guns. Harrier was refusing, loudly, and Rattrap was rushing to Rhinox's aid. Even Optimus Primal was paying more attention to the newcomers than to Samiel and Pantera.

Pantera's attention returned to the smug Predacon and all her old hatred rose up inside her. ~You. All Were One...and then you started your rebellion, ruined the peace of Cybertron, destroyed everything I'd worked so hard to build...~ She tensed her muscles, ready to spring...

...and in that second she realized that while everyone else's attention had been on Harrier, Samiel had been busy. In her hand she held some sort of gun, loaded and ready to fire.

Pantera had just enough time to think that Samiel was bluffing, that there was no way Samiel would provoke the other Maximals by killing her, when the yellow Predacon shot her point blank in the chest.

A needle...a dart...

Samiel's face blurred as Pantera's knees gave way. For a moment Pantera thought she saw the leering face of a Decepticon Seeker 2B... ~damn you Tempest...~ and then...blackness.

***

All guns were on Samiel. Thinking quick, the Predacon dropped her needle gun, raised her hands, and said, "Tranq."

"What?" Optimus Primal said, holding Rhinox back. Even Harrier and Rattrap, about to strangle one another--Rattrap jumping the nearest Predacon in fury over Pantera's fate, and Harrier meeting the challenge-- released their holds.

"It's a tranquilizer," Samiel explained. "It'll wear off in a few megacycles. Check it yourself."

In response to an unspoken signal from Primal, Rhinox walked over and verified Pantera's vital signs. "Like she said, a tranquilizer."

"That's hardly friendly," Optimus frowned.

"Neither was she," Samiel retorted cheerfully, returning her needle gun to its holster.

~Score one,~ Samiel thought. She hadn't gotten rid of Pantera--and the jaguar would no doubt prove to be a thorn in her side--but she'd scored major points with the other Maximals. Even now, the whole outburst looked like Pantera's fault. Samiel...well, she was just an innocent victim, wasn't she? The archaeopteryx smiled to herself, thinking of how Pantera had played right into her hands.

***

Pantera woke up in an unfamiliar room. The walls were decorated with pinups of questionable taste, the desk in the corner was cluttered by a vast array of gadgets, and the whole room reeked of the distinct smell of garbage.

"Morning, kitty."

Rattrap. Of course.

"Your quarters are disgusting," Pantera muttered, suddenly realizing that she had a pounding headache. "What happened?"

"Whaddya know. The Pred was as good as her word. It was only a tranq."

"Wha...?"

"You've been out for three megacycles. In case you forgot, our dear friend Agent Samiel shot you with a tranquilizer dart."

Samiel. The name meant nothing to her. She racked her mind, coming up with an image...yellow and blue, wings, curved helmet, blue spires, cold red optics...

"Tempest," Pantera hissed.

Rattrap blinked. "The war criminal? 'Tera, you got your wires crossed..."

"Samiel is Tempest. I'm sure of it."

"Tempest's dead."

"That's what we thought--I personally saw the body--but we're wrong. She's not dead. She's just reformatted." Pantera's optics narrowed to slits. "Primus only knows what she's doing here."

"If you take her at her word, she's hunting Megatron." The rat looked disturbed. "But what idiot would trust a Pred? I think you better tell Optimus. Last I heard, he was seriously considering making a peace treaty with Samiel and her crew."

The mention of "crew" caused Pantera to remember something else. "Harrier? Where's Harrier?"

"Eh. Gone with Samiel."

Pantera hung her head. "Slaggit. I should have warned him about her!" Mentally, she cursed herself. Her rational mind told her that there was no way she could have known that Tempest was still alive, that she'd done what she thought was best under the circumstances.

That was cold comfort now, though. Harrier was a good guy, and once again, Tempest had managed to get him under her control.

Pantera wondered, for the millionth time, what a good-hearted charmer like Harrier saw in the yellow bitch.

Regardless, Pantera had to look to herself first. She thought of the dead Maximal protoform, sliced to ribbons in its stasis pod, and shuddered. Tempest's work, without a doubt.

The Beast Wars had suddenly become a lot more vicious...and a lot more personal.

***

The foxhound stuck his nose out the door of Samiel's ship, sniffing the night air. He caught a trace of Samiel's scent and followed it, hopping up onto the wings of the star cruiser until he caught sight of Samiel in robot mode, lying on her back on the ship's roof, staring up at the stars.

He padded over to her, transformed, and took a seat beside her. He followed her gaze up into the sky. It was a cloudless night, and all the celestial lights were on display in their full glory.

"What'cha thinking about?" he asked her.

"Kilair." She did not take her eyes off the distant stars. "We came back here through a time warp. I was thinking that somewhere out there, you and I already exist in our old forms. I was wondering what our younger selves were doing now."

~Meaning,~ Harrier thought, ~have our lives gone to hell yet.~ Harrier's childhood home had been destroyed by Autobot raiders, and he'd ended up a servant boy in a rundown bar and refuelling station called the Last Best Place. Samiel's story had been much the same, only in her case, the culprits had been Decepticon raiders attacking the outport planet of Kilair, and they'd taken her with them, ditching her on a dying planet when they'd finished with her. They'd intended to leave her to die. Instead, she survived--hardened by the experience into a relentless warrior, carrying scars so deep inside her that even Harrier wondered if he'd heard the worst of it. Hard as his life had been, hers had been infinitely worse.

"I'd stop it if I could," Harrier murmured.

"What?"

"Kilair. The raiders. I wish I could warn your younger self...so none of that would happen to you. I'd stop the raiders myself if I could."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I certainly would!" he said, mistaking her words as a question of courage. "I'd challenge their leader to a duel right here and right now, if I had the chance!"

"And leave me as a soft, weak, helpless citizen of some backwater outport? You've got to be kidding me, Harrier! Those pirates did me a favour! They taught me to be hard, to fight, to survive..." She clenched her fist and admired it; her lips curved into a cold smile. "If it took the destruction of Kilair to make me what I am today, then I say let it burn."

Harrier felt a chill touch his core processor.

~Oh, Tempest...my lady...you shouldn't have to hurt like this.~

"Besides, if it weren't for me, you'd probably still be waiting tables at the Last Best Place." She tilted her head, grinning at him.

~I don't care. Anything, to spare you that pain,~ he thought, but could not bring himself to say it.

Samiel stood up, stretching. "It's been a hard road," she admitted, "but we're still on it, and that means we still have a chance." She smiled down at him, and he couldn't help returning it. It felt so good to be back with her again. He finally felt complete.

She yawned, stretching. "There's a lot of work to be done tomorrow...getting a bead on Megatron's location, and figuring out our next step in dealing with the Maximals. But for now, I'm calling it a night."

"I'll be down in a moment." He reverted to beast mode, watching the yellow female transform into an archaeopteryx and swoop down to the doors of the star cruiser.

Tempest. Samiel. His lady. Still as driven as ever, still as merciless to her chosen enemies...still tortured by her own pain, the pain that caused her to hold so tightly to a credo of survival that left no room for error or mercy...not even for herself.

And why was he only realizing now that he would do anything, even lay down his own life, to spare her from pain...even though she had never asked him to?

~Because I love her.~

It made perfect sense, and yet, the realization carried with it the weight of a mighty revelation.

He spent a long time that night, staring up at the stars.

THE END


End file.
